


Is This Love?

by LeVampiress



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hannibal gets what he wants, Injured Will, Like immediately after, M/M, Mind Palace, Post Fall, Post canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will is Confused, but he works through it, injured hannibal, lots of blood, they're in love okay, which is will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeVampiress/pseuds/LeVampiress
Summary: Will Graham sits and comes to terms with the choice he made post fall; which means everything has to be taken into consideration.Even his feelings.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 94





	Is This Love?

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished watching Hannibal for the first time, so this rambling fanfiction came about because of it. Enjoy?

Will Graham didn’t know _what_ had possessed him in that specific moment with Hannibal, but whatever had possessed him in that moment was truly haunting him now. Something vile and twisted had ensnared his heart, much like a bear trap snapping up its intended prey, and Will _loathed_ this feeling. And yet, it was one that had commonplace within his mind as of late. He couldn’t describe it offhand, not till he looked down and physically saw the cause of these feelings.

Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

The fall from the cliff was only 48 hours ago, and Will was surprised that he survived the brutal waves of the Atlantic. He was even more surprised that Hannibal was still breathing when he managed to bring them both to the nearby shore. Before Will passed out from exhaustion, he clung to Hannibal’s unconscious body like a lifeline, not willing to let go for a second. Hannibal was the only thing that would let Will cling to this plane of existence after everything they had been through. The last thing Will saw before the dark encompassed him then was a pair of legs to the side of him, and that the water that surrounded them was tainted dark with their blood. Oh so much blood.

Will found out later, once he had woken, that Chiyoh was their saviour. She had made sure that wounds were tended to and bandaged properly so their survival was actually possible. Will knew Chiyoh would not stay, despite him asking her to once he had awoken. Will’s injuries from Francis as well as the fall were classed as minor compared to Hannibal’s according to Chiyoh, and Chiyoh had enough faith in Will to leave him with Lecter to ensure he was safe and looked after. Chiyoh may still feel the need to look after Hannibal, even after all these years, but she could not bear to be in his presence when he would eventually wake. Will knew this, understood this, and bade her farewell. Will was competent enough with his knowledge learnt over the years from knowing Hannibal to take care of wounds like his own and the unconscious man laid before him. He was a doctor before a physicist after all.

Will had been left alone with his thoughts for the best part of the day since Chiyoh had left. He was curious as to how Chiyoh had procured a boat on such short notice, one that held enough supplies for the two of them till they gathered enough strength to move on; but he did not question it. Chiyoh had her ways, much like Hannibal had his. An influence on others in such a unique way that Will could only bear witness to and never seemingly hold himself.

Hannibal. Will was looking over Hannibal like he was a prized exhibit in a museum. He seemed so uncharacteristically fragile. Something Will would never class Hannibal as, and couldn’t even bear to think of him in such a way.

In what ways did Will think of Hannibal?

Strong.

Charismatic.

Poised.

Elegant.

_Handsome._

What? No. Will shook his head, his dark curls bouncing in his peripheral, curls his slicked back with ease with clammy hands. Wait, clammy hands? Will looked away from Hannibal to his hands, they were sweaty, something that comes with nerves. Anxiety. Or perhaps he was coming down with something too, the Atlantic was freezing, it would make sense that he would be coming down with a cold. Will grimaced, wincing as the stitching in his cheek stretched uncomfortably, before looking back to Hannibal.

Hannibal was laid in the small cabin bed, sheets draped over him loosely. He was shirtless, but the bandages that covered his body kept his modesty. He had been shot after all, and the fall would not have helped. Hannibal really did come out of this by the skin of his teeth. Chiyoh had said that the sleeping drugs she had administered to Hannibal, a much stronger dose than Will’s, would wear off at some point within the day; and so, Will waited for Hannibal to wake. It agonised him to wait for some form of life to swell back into Hannibal’s unconscious form.

Why did it agonise him so?

Will had been battling with this ensnaring feeling since he woke, the same feeling which made him embrace Hannibal on the cliff of Chesapeake Bay. The only colour he could see then was red; from rage, from pure anger, the warmth of blood and… something else. Will had to bite back a heartless laugh, he felt this way before to some degree with Molly in the time they had been married. _Love_.

Why would he love Hannibal?

He thought back to what Hannibal had said to him on the cliff face, how this was what he had always wanted for Will. He had responded in kind, telling Hannibal it was beautiful. But why? And why did he push them both off the cliff after such an intricate, intimate proposal? Will twiddled his thumbs idly, shrugging to himself. He always had a thing for the theatrics. He shut his eyes briefly, escaping to his slowly forming mind palace, one that Hannibal had inadvertently helped create over the years. Will’s minds eye saw in place of Hannibal’s body on the bed the ravenstag, breathing slow, ragged breaths, but still alive and fighting. Will smiled ever so slightly, still being careful with the stitching in his cheek courtesy of Chiyoh’s handiwork.

The feeling that ensnared his heart, this terrifying, vile feeling, was _love_. And yet, Will wasn’t as physically disgusted by it as he thought he would be. If he thought through things, it made sense as to why he and Hannibal had such a unique, intimate ‘friendship’. It wasn’t like the love he felt for Molly, something that was sweet and innocent. Or the love he had for his dogs, pure and loyal. His _‘love’_ for Hannibal came from somewhere more… sinister, and from the back of his mind. It was dark and rich. And it was consummated through the act of violence against Francis Dolarhyde.

Will’s hands flexed in memory at what had happened only 48 hours previous, how good it felt to wield the knife that sliced through the tender flesh of the Great Red Dragon’s belly. Staring into fiery, hazel eyes all the while. The act of murder, no, the act of _intimacy_ , with Hannibal, on the cliff of Chesapeake Bay was something that Will would treasure for the rest of his days. He could see the approval, the arousal sparking within Hannibal’s eyes as they _danced_ around the Dragon; as if it were a mating dance. He could only imagine how he had looked, covered in the blood from all parties involved, and that something feral was ignited within him during the slaughter of the Great Red Dragon. And that something was something Hannibal had always hoped to see, his great becoming.

Will inhaled deeply through his nose, eyes still shut as he stays bound to the inner walls of his mind palace, still coming to terms with the fact that everything screamed at him that there was some form of love for Hannibal. Saccharine and sadistic all in one. He couldn’t process this by himself, he needed… something, anything to cut through the endless sea of self-loathing and doubt, for things to make some sort of sense in his discombobulated mind-.

_“Will…”_

The call of his name was raspy, barely there, but Will heard it.

_“Will, open your eyes…”_

Will hadn’t realised just how long he had been trapped inside the confines of his mind. He obeyed the command, opening his eyes to see fiery hazel staring back at him. Will couldn’t help but smile, not caring for the searing pain that followed.

Will understood everything his mind refused the moment glacial blue locked onto fiery hazel. This _was_ love, this was _home_.

All Hannibal could do was smile back at Will once Will looked down upon him, knowing full well the conclusion Will came to just by looking at his face. Hannibal had ensnared his prey and had Will Graham right where he wanted him and had formed him into the best possible version of himself, the vision that Hannibal sought from the moment he met Will.

Hannibal opened the palm of his hand slowly, and without hesitation Will placed his hand in his…


End file.
